A Fairey Swordfish seems like something of a misnomer for such a large, cumbersome looking aircraft that was conceived as a Greek reconnaissance aircraft. The initial plans didn’t amount to much and the British Air Ministry took over the discussions with Fairey to create a torpedo plane, the prototype taking to the air as TSR1 (Torpedo Spotter Reconnaissance). It was to become so much more than a TSR in its unexpected role in World War II. It’s origins explain why it wasn’t a nimble creature, designed for the speed of attacks needed in the evolving warfare of the 1940s. It was a chunky, solid piece of engineering powered by a Pegasus radial engine of some six hundred horsepower and delivering a throaty roar as it left the ground. It had room for a crew of three: a pilot, observer, and gunner but frequently only flew with two. The empty seat making a useful home for spare fuel. Entering service with the Royal Navy in 1936, this biplane was already outpaced and outgunned by other aircraft yet it did more than its fair share to disrupt the Axis supply lines into Africa during World War II.
Image by Michael Worden
This workhorse of the skies was known as the ‘Stringbag’, a nickname bestowed on the aircraft by the crews, partly because of its construction, partly because it reminded them of a shopping bag familiar to their wives and mothers. This epithet seems more fitting in many ways because the Stringbag was nothing flashy and yet it was unquestionably reliable. It was an aircraft that just kept delivering, day after day, without the pizzazz of more famous and infamous planes.
Naming aircraft is often less about the reality of what it can do and more about the spirit it captures. Perhaps the greatest example of this being the Mosquito, legendary for the way it could harry the enemy, being small and unbelievably persistent in the face of a bigger force. The de Haviland Hurricane brings with it the might, noise, and fury of the wind and leaves us in no doubt what it intends to do.
With the Stringbag, there’s no rapier-like bill (yes, that’s what the pointy bit at the front of the fish is called) and they’re not built for speed or agility, or for cutting through the clouds with the precision of a hot knife through butter. But, like the fish, the Stringbag was a highly successful predator, seeking out targets with relentless accuracy and succeeding more often that its design would indicate.
Unlike the fish who hunt alone and only in the warm waters of the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans, the Stringbags set out in formations of 4-6, sometimes accompanied by Hurricanes, and took to the skies on the coldest of nights. As long as nothing froze the critical bits (like the engine, the motor, the fuel – frankly, anything), the men took their aircraft up into the sky. It wasn’t as if they had a cosy cabin and thermal socks, everything was basic, really basic. Early Swordfish didn’t even have a canopy and the ones that were fitted gave no protection against incoming fire.
The Stringbag was deceptively simple, and surprisingly slow with a top speed of 138 mph downhill as pilots would note wryly. In fact, it was the odd combination of a sluggish rate-of-climb of 1,220 ft./min (6.2 m/sec) and sturdy design that made it difficult for the enemy to judge how to shoot it down.
It was also deceptively large. The single engine gave it the appearance of being smaller than other torpedo bombers. It’s only when you stand next to it that you can appreciate the size and robustness of its construction.
The wingspan, top and bottom, was slightly uneven and supported by parallel struts. The lower wing was almost straight, and the top wing had a slight dihedral. Looking end to end along the 13.87 m length of the top wing, you can see just how big the Stringbag was, yet just how versatile. As the plane needed to be transported on aircraft carriers, its wings could be folded to save space, like a praying mantis tucking itself away to wait for just the right moment to strike. This huge beast of a plane could be stored neatly onboard ship, belying the power of the engines and solidity of structure.
The Swordfish was unusual in that it was stable around all axes whilst being able to make short turns. Added to this, it could be dived vertically with the ability to pull-out of the diver close to the surface of the sea because very little speed had been build up during the dive. Sometimes it pays to be slow and steady! This was one of the confounding factors for the enemy trying to shoot at the aircraft – it was slower than they expected.
The Stringbag was critical in several infamous missions. One of these was the hugely successful night torpedo and bombing attack on the Italian fleet in Taranto Harbour in 1940. The success of this mission later served to inspire the Japanese navy planning the operation in Pearl Harbour. An even more legendary mission was the sinking of the Bismarck. In 1941, Swordfish off HMS Ark Royal torpedoed the German battleship Bismarck in the North Atlantic, leading to her destruction by surface forces. One of the Swordfish aircraft and crew who were part of the mission described in An Average Pilot, had been part of the initial attack on the Bismarck, damaging it sufficiently for follow up sorties to finish the job. But it wasn’t all guns and glory for the Stringbags. In 1942, land-based Swordfish had the worst of times when they attempted to stop the ‘‘Channel Dash’’ by German battle cruisers. Nearly all of them were destroyed by German fighter planes leaving the already depleted aircraft of Fleet Air Arm utterly devastated.
Image by Gary Wann
Somehow, the Stringbags maintained a steady tempo of attacks right through to the end of the war, particularly as part of the anti-submarine missions. Flying from escort carriers, radar was now in constant use either retro-fitted or fitted as standard to the late-model aircraft. This was the radar that had been so cutting edge when the crews in An Average Pilot needed to ditch at sea to avoid alerting the enemy to their new capability. Equipped with this radar and crews with incredible flying and navigation skills, the Stringbags hunted U-boats in the Atlantic, Mediterranean, and northern waters. During D-Day, land-based Stringbags conducted antisubmarine patrols in the Channel and its approaches. These heavy, outmoded aircraft defied all expectations. Almost 2,400 were built and it outlived its intended replacement, the closed-cockpit Fairey Albacore. It even kept going when the much more advanced Barracuda monoplane arrived in fleet squadrons. The Stringbag was an anomaly, both by name and nature.
The mission we describe in An Average Pilot may have ended with three aircraft in the sea and one upside down on a beach in Cefalù, but it was borne out of a tireless ability to hit the enemy where it hurt: the Axis supply lines. The Stringbag sunk more tonnage than any other aircraft in the Allied forces, causing disastrous shortages of arms and supplies when Rommell needed them most. Not bad for a plane that was already obsolete when it joined the Fleet Air Arm’s defence of Britain and Allied territories.
Bev Morris
Double Dagger Books 